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Jasper Dark Sky Festival

We were lost in the streamers of Aurora Borealis,
the dark starry sky bearing blue butterflies—
to arrive at a wooden bridge over tiny glaciers
between lit wavering candles. An Aurora
flagging your head, says we could maybe
hold each other with your glove on my waist.

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The burning sensation is fierce—the leaves and flowers of what I thought were Box Elders and Skunkbush caress against my exposed ankles before I even realized. Tingling spreads up my calves, the ivy cold and numbing. I stood at the edge of the small stream of running water. Unremarkable. The water, more of a trickle than a stream, winds through patchwork of pebbles and occasional boulders.

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pull me away
I can’t handle the world right now
like I’m supposed to, like I used to
I can’t pretend right now as well
as I’m used to

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The Long Night

“You’re just like your fucking father!” That’s the last thing she said before slamming the door in my sorry face. According to my watch, It’s seven-thirty. I should be at home eating the dinner that my wife slaved over with her and my boy, but new girl Nia left me an unnoticed lipstick stain on my brand new shirt that my son, Avery, got me for Christmas, so tonight’s plans have changed.

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Scars From the Twilight

Once I discovered that monsters were real, only one clear decision could be made: hunt them down. When it all began, my house was being haunted by an evil spirit. After the exorcist banished the being, my research began and soon followed my pursuit of such creatures.

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The Love Within Every Second

A grey tube snakes across the city.
The metal carriage shakes in every turn.
Packed bodies on benches suit for a hospital.

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Could You, Would you, Will you?

if every blade of grass had a significant purpose,
would you be more cautious with every step?
if every ray of sun lead to cancer,
would you hide away forever?

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My Writing Process

The craft of writing, detailing how exactly to go from a simple and disorderly idea to a completed and coherent piece. here are many steps to this process — from brainstorms to an outline, from drafting to revisions, until you have something publishable. Writing is a mysterious and elusive artform. Whether it’s technical, creative, or copy — good writing contains something that cannot be taught.

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